


I'm head over boots

by wearethewitches



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, F/M, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Mental Anguish, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Sex Pollen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-03-01 07:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18796129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethewitches/pseuds/wearethewitches
Summary: When a First Contact goes terribly sideways, it's Chris and Michael who have to pay the price - and deal with the aftermath.-(or, aliens kidnapped the First Contact team and it was like the Talosians, but worse.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Ensign and Captain Dimples](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17480210) by [Selmak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selmak/pseuds/Selmak). 



> **PSA** : Do not read this fic if you're uncomfortable with the topics discussed. The rape/non-con tags are about aliens making them do the do without their consent, using a more sciency version of sex pollen, not either of them against the other.

The shuttle is cold. When a blanket is offered, he takes it, stepping towards Michael and wrapping it around her shoulders. She doesn’t look at him.

“Captain, what happened down there?”

Chris struggles not to clench his fists or show any emotion, even though he wants to punch something so hard his knuckles bleed. It’s a guilt so deep that he can’t even answer and he sits down as far away from Michael as he can, pleading with God to forgive him – that he might get through the inquiry without breaking down.

 _I have to hand myself in,_ he thinks, wondering if it would be better to die. _Saru will make for a great captain._

The shot is still in his system. He can feel it regenerating through his blood-stream, turning him hot and sweaty – he should never have gone near her again, not when he wasn’t sure the poison wouldn’t react again from proximity. The doctor on board has his tricorder up, scanning Michael with an intensity only seen in worried medical professionals.

“Commander, your readings are going wild. What happened on that planet?”

Even though the shuttle is in shadow and Michael’s complexion hides them easily, Chris can still see one of many bruises on her neck. He remembers giving them to her, his hands on her hips as he slid in and out of her, her nails dragging down his front as she met him thrust for thrust.

“Your heartbeat is way above normal levels. I’m going to give you a hypo to hopefully calm you down-”

Their eyes meet, brown to blue. The hypo hits the ground as Michael smoothly pushes the doctor out to the way, getting up and stalking across the compartment. Chris meets her halfway, not realising he’s moving until their mouths meet in a clash of teeth and tongues. Oh, he _wants_ this. His cock is heavy between his legs and Michael is pressing them closer together, rutting like animals until the security officers grab them both, tearing them apart.

“No!” Chris yells, voice low and hoarse as Michael deftly incapacitates her attackers. In his periphery, he sees the doctor speaking into his communicator, saying things like _out of control_ and _emergency transport_ , but Chris doesn’t care, too focused on Michael. All he wants is her to be his. He reaches out and she turns to him, pupils dark with lust – and then a hypo is stuck in his neck.

Stunned for a moment, Chris only sees Michael lunging for him before he’s falling into the deep, deep dark of sedation.

* * *

_Tap-tap. Tap-tap._

“Pike. Neither of you have told anyone what happened. You need to.”

_Tap-tap. Tap-tap._

Katrina leans in. “I know it’s hard. With what was in your bloodstream, I’m surprised you kept it together long enough to escape.”

Chris clenches his fist, stopping his nails from rapping on the table’s surface. “Did I, though? Because from my perspective, we killed our captors, got out and then I fucked her. Seems like they got what they wanted.”

“Chris…”

“It was like the Talosians all over again,” he says, staring at the table, letting out a savage bark of laughter. “Except they didn’t bother with mind-control in an attempt to get their little zoo – _no_ , they went straight to date-rape drugs and I fucked her without her consent in the middle of a laboratory.”

Katrina flinches.

“Is she pressing charges?”

“She’s not said a word,” the admiral replies quietly. “What about you? Neither of you were in control.”

Chris stares at the table.

“Not the first time. It works faster on me. I could barely- I couldn’t-” he remembers her expression when he pushed her up against the wall, the panic and the _fear_ when he kissed her the first time.

_She said **no**._

“Christopher, I need a report. It can be as clinical as you like, because I don’t think Commander Burnham is going to be putting down details, either,” Katrina says, voice hard as she urges him on. “This is coming from Starfleet when I say it won’t be going on your record, except your next psych report.”

“I want to hand myself in.”

“ _Jesus Christ,_ ” Katrina steps around the desk, hands coming up to squeeze his shoulders. Chris blinks away the tears of guilt. “Pike. Chris. You did not assault her. You were both under the influence and neither of you could give consent. Did you know what you were doing before it took hold? Did you know what was going to happen?”

“They- they said they wanted a _breeding pair_ ,” Chris swallows, shaking his head. The tears come without his consent. “They told us how long it would last, they told us what they wanted us to _do_ -”

“Shh,” Katrina pulls him down into a tight hug as he shakes and sobs. “You didn’t do it. That wasn’t you.”

“It was me, I did that, I took pleasure in her and _raped_ my science o _-_ ”

“You did not,” she cuts him off shortly, arms like a vice around him. For a brief moment, she seems _so_ angry – not at him, but at the world. “I’m ordering you as admiral to _stop saying that_. You did not do that. Neither of you had any choice in the matter. You were _both_ assaulted and it was done to you both by members of a non-Federation race. Never have I seen a First Contact go so badly before, Chris and I am so sorry, to both you and Michael.”

“I still did it. She kept her head longer than I did. It’s my fault.”

Katrina draws back, gripping his arms as she searches his eyes. “I’m putting you on a medical leave of absence. The two of you – you can stay on _Discovery_ and talk it out like adults, with someone who knows present so neither of you gets the wrong idea about what happened.”

“You?”

“Maybe. I need to talk to Michael, first,” Katrina says, eyeing him. “Is it safe for me to leave you alone, like this? Would you like company?”

“I’m not about to kill myself over this,” Chris says quietly and he thinks he’s telling the truth – but he appreciates how Katrina doesn’t seem to believe him, anyway. What he’s done is despicable and- and even under the influence, it was his responsibility. He’s the captain. Katrina’s concern is respectable and valid.

“Stay here,” she instructs him, gesturing around them at the ready room. Then, she goes, off to find Michael – probably to convince her not to press charges. Chris puts his head in his hands.

_I lost control. I hurt her. She said **no**._

What she said reverberates through his head. Every time he closes his eyes, he can see her wide eyes and see her pretty lips mouth the words _captain, no, don’t let it_ -

Chris sobs.

* * *

The sickbay is quiet. Michael edges closer to the doorway, waiting for someone to see her. It’s just her luck that it’s Hugh who sees her, however and the doctor frowns gently as he approaches her.

“Commander? Is there something wrong?” he asks, making sure not to attract attention from his co-workers. “You don’t need to come back.”

Michael’s throat is closing up on her and she wordlessly shakes her head in disagreement. She’s silently panicking and Hugh can see it, if the hand on her elbow is anything.

“Let’s go to my office.”

Hugh’s office is smaller than Michael expected, little more than a storage closet with a desk, but it’s lit warmly and there’s a small couch tucked beside the door. He seats her down there, grabbing his own chair to sit across from her.

“What’s up, Michael?”

It takes her some time to find the words. Eventually, she just says it. “I need emergency contraceptive.”

Hugh’s face freezes and Michael can’t look at him, clasping her hands together on her lap.

“Did- did something happen on the planet, Michael? Security said you only… _reacted_ to the compound in the shuttlecraft.”

“There was a reprieve.” She says shortly, heart pounding as she explains. “We got out within a day, Dr Culber. We slept together continuously for the next three.”

“Stars – _Michael,_ ” Hugh offers his hand and Michael reaches out, clutching it like a lifeline. “I didn’t see. I’m sorry. I can get Dr Pollard to ex-”

“I’m fine,” Michael interrupts. “I’m not- I’m not _hurt_ , Dr Culber. But the facility we were taken to treated us like zoo animals. They could have injected us with anything and I highly doubt they forgot fertility enhancers – especially considering their intentions.”

Hugh swears under his breath and squeezes her hand tightly. “I’ll give you something to prevent it, but if you come back next week, I’ll make sure there’s no gestation for sure, then. I’d still like Dr Pollard to take a look at you, though.”

“I don’t want people to know.”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality. You should have told us as soon as you woke up from the sedative, Michael.”

“You cured it, right?” Michael asks him, desperately hopeful. “The compound?”

“There’s still residue in your bloodstream. I estimate it will fully flush from your system by tomorrow,” the doctor admits.

“Then I can’t be anywhere near the captain. It engages within a certain proximity,” she describes, shivering as she recalls the riveting sensations brought on by the drug – by _Christopher_. “You have to tell him that as well. We shouldn’t risk it.”

Hugh looks at Michael in concern. “Commander, is that an excuse to avoid him?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m certain,” Michael says, strength returning to her voice. “We were drugged. There’s no-one to blame here. He’s my captain. I don’t want to seem like I’m avoiding him, but I don’t want for what should be an honest discussion of traumatic events turn into…” she swallows, looking away.

Hugh adds another hand to the grip on her own, squeezing tightly. “I’ll make sure he knows. If you like, I can arrange a meeting between you quietly, here.” Michael nods in gratitude, before watching as Hugh stands. “I’ll just get the appropriate hypo. After, I’d like to run your bloodwork again.”

“Thank-you.”

“It’s nothing, Michael.”

He leaves. Michael sucks in a large breath, closing her eyes. It would be wrong to say she’s unaffected by the events that had occurred planetside – but it would _also_ be wrong to say she didn’t enjoy them. Christopher had been vigorous, for a man his age and quite honestly, despite the circumstances, it was the best sex of her life. Considering Michael’s high standards, that’s saying something.

But it was still assault – both of them were forced and it can’t go without saying that despite the reciprocating format, it _was_ non-consensual. Michael can barely go thinking about it without shaking, knowing she was party to it – that her captain is probably as traumatised as she is by the incident.

With the compound still in their systems, there’s no way for them to communicate, either, not properly. The more time spent apart, the more either of their views gets skewed. _We have to be on the same page,_ Michael thinks, shuddering at the thought of the planet’s occupants – of how they had so clinically assessed them and marked Christopher as the _breeder_ to her _to be bred_. By her calculations, there’s an eighty-seven percent possibility she’s pregnant and that’s without knowing what dosage of drugs they gave her.

Michael feels ill at the idea and thinks herself lucky that Hugh returns so shortly after, his presence giving her something to focus on other than the burgeoning reality that there may be a fetus inside her. He sits down and quietly administers hypos to her neck, sticking a monitor behind her ear that feels tacky against her skin.

“This will send me data,” he says, before handing her a pill to swallow. Michael does so without question. “The monitor should activate as soon as you’ve dissolved the casing of the pill. It’ll pass through you in four days. Any abnormal changes will be noted.”

“Thank-you.”

“I _will_ speak to Captain Pike myself, about this. You’ve no reason to go near him until the compound has left your system,” Hugh assures her.

Michael offers him a weak smile.

“I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a heat to her blood – a fire, one that hurts her. Her veins are filled with noxious poison and it makes her gasp and keen from the sharpness of it. It’s disorientating – dizzying. Vaguely, she feels herself fall to floor of the shower, the non-slip surface snagging on her skin. _It hurts_ , Michael thinks, feeling a cramping in her abdomen.

She sits there in the cubicle until her water ration cuts off, droplets trailing down her skin like tears. Michael thinks at least some of them _are_. She know she should call for help – that she should ask the computer for an emergency transport to sickbay – but instead, putting logic behind her, she sits in silence.

 _It’s not so bad,_ she thinks. The cramping is uncomfortable, but she’s had worse during menstrual cycles. _I’m having a reaction to whatever Hugh gave me to prevent pregnancy._ Her limbs are shaking and there’s a sweat to her forehead from fever. Michael thinks it unlikely it is anything else but what Dr Culber prescribed – her reasons to go to the sickbay are becoming more logical by the moment, but she does not want to go.

She clings to her stubbornness, aware that she cannot be forced by Tilly to leave their shared bathroom – _she’s on duty for another shift and a half_ – and that no-one should know she’s here to be visited in the first place. Michael presses the back of her head to the cubicle wall, closing her eyes and drawing her legs to her chest.

_Pling._

“ _Commander Burnham, it’s Admiral Cornwell. I need to speak to you._ ”

Michael opens her eyes slowly, looking up at the ceiling. Her breath shudders and she stands up, leaving the bathroom and using a towel to quickly dry off as she puts one hand to the panel near the door.

“One moment, Admiral.”

“ _I’m just outside._ ”

Michael dries, changing into a plain t-shirt and leggings, at last second adding a _DISCO_ jumper to the mix. She zips it up as she unlocks the main door to her quarters. Admiral Cornwell enters in full uniform, hair perfectly straight and a PADD in hand. Her eyes fall on Michael, her expression twisting.

“Michael. You look awful.”

“I’m functioning well enough,” Michael says, seating herself on her bed and drawing her legs up as Tilly might, trying to put her at ease. Acting like an ordinary Human isn’t usually her true reaction to these things – but it’s clear from the way Cornwell is watching her that Christopher has spoken to her. “I had a bad reaction to the contraceptive drugs Dr Culber gave me.”

The Admiral’s shoulders sag. She seats herself on Tilly’s bed, slumped. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Thank-you.” Michael twitches, feeling another sharp spike of pain in her abdomen. “In what capacity are you here?”

“Mixed. I’m here as support, if you need it, but I’ll be writing the report up for what happened. Christopher gave me the basics,” Cornwell watches her reaction to his name, but Michael deliberately looks her in the eyes. “What was your assessment of the incident? Any advisements?”

“Ward off the planet from anyone other than Starfleet. Don’t send down anything less than a full tactical team to accompany diplomats.” Michael is ruthless, thinking of what they did to her – to her and Christopher both – and finally feeling the first swells of true anger. “It’s my professional consideration that the Binevecci of Binevallos are unsuitable at present to join the Federation until their ethics and morals are firmly situated within parameters agreed upon by the United Federation of Planets.”

“I agree,” Admiral Cornwell nods, looking down at her PADD and making a note of Michael’s words. Then, she turns it to an often-used recording program and sets it beside her, looking to Michael. “Commander Burnham, if you would describe the events that went down on Binevallos, beginning when you beamed down.”

“I accompanied the captain to meet the Binevecci at the previously agreed-upon locale,” Michael starts. “We were met formally by whom we presumed was the Head of State. This proved both true and false, as it was revealed to us shortly through a monologue that the Binevecci are, in their own words, ‘observers of organic life’ and that the Head of State was also the lead scientist. They sought to use the Federation to happen upon two prime Human specimens to add to their collection to breed.”

The Admiral tenses. “They have captives, currently?”

“I would presume so, however, they explicitly stated that there were volunteers who lived in the remote compound where the captain and I were summarily brought to by force. I am unaware of the distribution of volunteers to prisoners.” Michael lowers her legs from the bed, seating herself as she would normally. The discomfort of her previous position does not make for a content Michael. “The Binevecci took Captain Pike and I to a laboratory, injecting each of us with a pre-prepared concoction of drugs meant to manipulate brain chemistry and bodily functions.”

“Pre-prepared?” Cornwell frowns. “Safe for Humans?”

Michael nods sharply.

“Christ. Keep going, Commander.”

Flexing her wrists – ignoring the cramps – Michael continues. “When the Binevecci administered the drugs, they removed our restraints. This was to their detriment. We retrieved our phasers from their security guard and stunned them. Unfortunately, we discovered later that the standard stun setting is lethal to the Binevecci. Once we downed our guards, the drugs began to take effect and we then spent the next three days having intercourse.”

Admiral Cornwell’s jaw drops.

Michael can’t help the slight tug of her lip that wants to smile. Despite the situation and the drugs involved…it’s impressive. _Three whole days._

“We had no need to eat or drink during this period. During a reprieve, we were able to contact the U.S.S. _Discovery_ and request evac; however, during the shuttle-ride back, the effects of the drugs reactivated and security was forced to intervene before we…resumed our activities.”

“…so, you were conscious of your actions? Could you control them?”

Michael looks away for the first time, recalling her reaction to the events in the shuttle. “Not conventionally. We were focused on fulfilling an unnatural biological imperative. When the medical officer sedated the captain, I aimed to fatally incapacitate them and all aboard.”

“Would you like to press charges?”

Her mind clears. Her eyes sharpen. Michael pins Cornwell with a glare. “Neither of us were in control of our actions. Starfleet has regulations for these sorts of events. It was an assault on the part of the Binevecci against us both. I will not be pressing charges.”

A loud breath of relief escapes Cornwell and she ends the recording. “Good. Good – now, can you explain that to Chris? Because he’s in a state, Michael. He thinks he raped you.”

Michael presses her lips together, remembering what Hugh said.

“Unfortunately, the drugs are still present in our systems,” she says, grudgingly. “Dr Culber has assured me he’ll be explaining it to the captain. I do wish to talk to him, to make sure that isn’t what he believes, but unless we want it to happen again, neither of us can step foot near each other.”

“Well, shit,” Cornwell mutters. A silence falls, before the cramping in Michael’s abdomen worsens. Her skin prickles and a bead of sweat runs down her forehead. Cornwell picks up on it, standing and stepping closer to her. “Michael?”

“It’s nothing,” Michael says, only to hunch over abruptly in a way that belies her own words. Cornwell hurries over, hand catching her shoulder as she sways.

“You’re not okay, Commander,” the Admiral says, before stating, “Computer, emergency transport to sickbay, authorisation Admiral Katrina Cornwell, Beta-Alpha-Six.”

“ _Emergency transport activated._ ”

The beam takes them just inside the front door and Michael nearly topples over, knees weak. Admiral Cornwell is the only thing keeping her standing.

“Doctors, help me get her on a bio-bed, she’s having a reaction to whatever the hell Culber gave her.”

Michael is helped up onto the nearest bio-bed, but that’s all she sees before she blacks out.

* * *

A blip comes from his PADD. Chris looks up from where he’s slumped at his dining table in his quarters, brow furrowing as he reaches over to pick it up. He looks at the notification, telling him there’s been an emergency transport in-ship from crew quarters to sickbay.

“Computer, call sickbay,” he frowns.

There’s a long wait – too long. Chris sits up from his slump slowly, wondering what’s going on. Eventually, the line blips open.

“This is Captain Pike. Who just transported to sickbay?” he asks.

“ _Captain,_ ” the medical officer at the comm starts, sounding hesitant, “ _It’s- it’s Michael Burnham, sir. Admiral Cornwell’s with her. She’s having a belated reaction to a previous treatment._ ”

“What previous treatment?”

“ _I can’t tell you that, sir._ ”

“Do I have to come down and get the CMO to sign me off? I’m the captain and she’s my officer,” Chris clenches his fist, getting up with every intention of storming down to sickbay.

“ _I’m sorry, sir, it’s regulation-_ ” they cut themselves off. Chris waits, tense throughout the silence, before Admiral Cornwell’s voice comes through the comm.

“ _Chris, you’ve got to stay away._ ”

“Kat, what’s going on?” he asks her.

“ _I don’t know – but what I do know tells me you have to stay away,_ ” she says, sounding stressed, the words escaping her in a torrent. “ _The drugs are still in your system, Chris, so unless you want to assault her again, don’t come down here._ ”

The call ends and Chris feels like a hot poker has been rammed through his chest.

_Unless you want to assault her again._

He falls back down into his seat, dazed and horrified, summarily brought back to the reality of what he's done. Michael isn't just his officer. _She said no,_ he thinks, numb to the world. _Now she’s in sickbay…oh god, what did I do? Why would she need treatment? How much did I hurt her?_ Chris’ thoughts go round and round in his head, imagining all the horrific injuries she could have been hiding under her clothes. He can remember everything that happened – every moan and every frenzied cry. How many of them were from pain, instead of pleasure? Did he break bones? Did he- did he _tear?_

“I’m a monster,” he says to himself, before dragging himself up towards his bathroom to be sick.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is in the sickbay. Oh, and Sarek and Amanda are helicopter parents.

Michael Burnham is secluded in sickbay for twenty-two hours before Tilly is allowed to see her.

Desperate to see her best friend and mentor, Tilly barely listens to Dr Pollard’s admonishment for running, practically flying across the deck to where Michael lays back in a bio-bed. When Tilly takes Michael’s hand, her friend stirs, eyes flickering open.

“…Tilly. Hey.”

“Hey to you, too,” Tilly squeezes, eyes wet. “People have been worried. _I’ve_ been worried – you really scared everyone, when Admiral Cornwell had to get an emergency beam to save you. If she hadn’t…god, Michael, you nearly _died_.”

“You’re being dramatic…”

“She’s really not.” Dr Pollard comes to stand by Tilly’s elbow, hitting Michael with a stern look as she interrupts their conversation. “Don’t think so little of yourself, Commander. Next time, we won’t be fast enough to save you. As soon as you started having pains, you should have made your way to sickbay. Abortive-contraceptives in this day and age don’t harm the recipient any worse than a stomach-ache.”

“Well, next time, I’ll know better.”

“You will,” Dr Pollard confirms. Tilly waits until she walks away, answering a call, to hiss at Michael.

“Abortive- _what?_ ”

Unusually, her friend smirks, not even deigning to cover it up. “Take a guess, Tilly.”

“The rumours are true, oh my god – you totally slept with Captain Dimples!” Tilly exclaims in a whisper that really isn’t much of a whisper. She cringes at her own volume, glancing about sickbay before looking back at her friend. “Okay, it was a sucky situation, if I heard right.”

The smirk fades.

“It was worse than _sucky_ ,” Michael tells her quietly, “and while it might have been… _pleasurable_ , the effects on my working relationship with the captain have yet to be discussed. According to Admiral Cornwell, Captain Pike is under the impression that he assaulted me.”

“No!”

“Yes.” Michael shakes her head, sitting up slightly with a wince. Tilly is quick to press her back down onto the bed, hand on her shoulder. Michael sends her a narrow-eyed glare before continuing. “He didn’t assault me. Neither of us had any control over the situation.”

“He could totally ruin his own career if he’s admitting to that,” says Tilly in a small voice.

“Can you ensure he doesn’t?” Michael asks her, causing Tilly to blink rapidly in confusion. “Get word around the ship. I don’t mind people knowing the truth – but only if it’s the _truth_ , Tilly. If enough people declare that Captain Pike’s testimony is invalid, he won’t be able to.”

“Why not just talk to him?”

Tilly watches as Michael looks to the clock, frowning slightly. The ensign recognises the expression that follows – it’s Michael’s thinking face.

“There’s some kind of catalyst when we’re in each other’s presence. We’re not sure how long it’ll last,” she explains, “though it should have worn off by now, hopefully.”

“So, if you’re in the same room together…” Tilly trails off, imagining her friend and her captain running pell-mell at each other, limbs flying as they tried to rip each other’s clothes off. It’s a stark and improbable image. _They’d probably just push each other up against a wall_ , Tilly corrects herself.

“Indeed.”

A quiet falls between them, only broken by Michael’s hisses and winces of pain. Tilly grimaces.

“Is it still bad?”

“Yes,” says Michael, who looks around her to Dr Pollard. The doctor approaches, scanning her with a tricorder, humming discordantly.

“Your vitals are steady. Nothing _seems_ to be wrong.”

“Something _is._ ”

“We’ll have to flush your system,” Dr Pollard shakes her head. “If this is because the mystery substance is still clinging to your cells, then we’ll need to check on Captain Pike, too.”

“In his quarters,” Tilly prompts. The doctor eyes her up strangely, but Michael nods hurriedly in agreement. Dr Pollard, seeing their united front, frowns deeply and nods.

“In his quarters,” she agrees.

* * *

The pain in her abdomen is unable to be ignored, despite her efforts, but Michael makes sure to listen when Dr Pollard describes the events of the past day. She comes to the conclusion as the doctor describes the reason that yes, it is unfair that the medication prescribed to her reacted this badly with the aphrodisiacs in her system.

“To start, we’ll calculate the baseline rate of deterioration over the next few hours, then let the computer have at it, while we form our own opinions. Then we’ll develop some ideas on how to counteract it.”

“Alright,” agrees Michael, catching sight of Hugh across the bay. “If I may ask, why am I not being treated by Dr Culber?”

Dr Pollard shrugs. “No reason. He’s volunteered to see Captain Pike in my stead, but I’d rather keep this in one sphere of influence; we’ve not learnt how to communicate clearly, as of yet. I don’t want any mishaps, so I’ll look over the both of you.”

“Thank-you for answering,” Michael says diplomatically, face blank as she wonders if sickbay personnel need to go on a team building exercise. Another swirl of pain causes her to grimace sharply, which Dr Pollard tracks with hawk-like eyes, watching and waiting.

“Worse?”

“It’s steady,” Michael claims.

“If it were steady, you’d just be discomforted.” Dr Pollard pokes her arm with penlight stylus. “It comes and goes?”

“Like normal menstrual cramps, but…exceedingly stark, in comparison. It doesn’t really fade.”

Dr Pollard’s lip twitches. “Would you like chocolate and flowers?”

“A heat pack would be more appreciated, to be honest,” Michael bypasses the sarcasm, not in the mood for humour. “Is that a good idea?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Dr Pollard promises, before handing her a PADD. “An urgent communication came for you from the Vulcan Embassy. I wanted to wait until Ensign Tilly had returned to work.”

Michael takes the PADD with a healthy wariness. She dreads to think what her family have heard. “Thank-you. I will read it.”

“I’ll leave you to it – and see about that heat pack.”

Michael inclines her head, waiting until Dr Pollard has left her to access her account. Waiting there, the word _URGENT_ flashing on a red background, is the communication from… _Father,_ Michael reads the name of the sender, stomach aching not just in pain, but in anticipation.

She reads the communication quickly and methodically.

_Michael Burnham of the House of Surak,  
Starfleet Commander of the U.S.S. Discovery_

_I have read the most recent report regarding your condition. Please be aware that your mother will be travelling immediately to rendezvous with the U.S.S. ‘Discovery’, to ascertain whether you require extraction from Starfleet, as I am unable to leave Earth at this time. Your brother has also been informed, but he has not answered any of his recent communications. I suspect something is amiss._

_Your mother is most concerned for you. Please inform only Commander Saru of her imminent arrival, as it is not our intention to let the captain be aware of any help we might provide._

_Sarek of the House of Surak,  
Ambassador of Vulcan to Earth_

“Computer, contact the Bridge,” Michael raises her voice. She hears the _pling_ and calls out, “Saru.”

There is a moment, before Saru replies, “ _Michael. You are supposed to be in sickbay._ ”

“I still am – but I received an urgent communication from my father. My mother is on her way, in her capacity as Ambassador’s wife.”

“ _Understood, Commander. We’ll be on watch for her shuttle. Thank-you for informing us – though if I may inquire, how are you feeling, Michael?_ ”

“In pain, but otherwise functional,” she replies levelly.

“ _We eagerly await your return, Commander,_ ” Saru says before the line closes. Michael looks once more at the communication, fingers itching to send a reply. Eventually, she decides a short, non-urgent message will do.

_Father/ I am well and there is no need to ‘extract’ me. Captain Pike is punishing himself needlessly, already. I look forwards to seeing Mother, however. /Cmdr. Michael Burnham._

Sending off her message, Michael sets the PADD aside, wincing at a particularly powerful cramp. Hopefully, her mother will be easy to convince, though Michael doubts her father will take her message so cleanly. He can be stubborn like that – like her.

“Family troubles?”

Michael looks up. Hugh sits down on a nearby stool, smiling at her. “My mother is visiting.”

“Indeed. You’re lucky to have parents who care so much,” Hugh says, lip twitching. “Paul’s parents once took us on a trip to Rigellia Nine. I think they were trying to kill me.”

“Ah,” Michael intones, smiling, “but isn’t proving your worth to your future parents-in-law tradition? You survived, I see.”

“Barely,” he jokes, before a sober expression takes the place of his smile. “Michael, I’m so sorry about this. I should have made sure you would react the same way.”

“Hugh, it’s fine. Truly. You couldn’t have known.”

Hugh hesitates. “Well…if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Michael assures him, reaching out to pat his hand. “How is Paul? Have you moved back in together, yet?”

“Yes. It was a mistake for me to ever think being apart would help. Admiral Cornwell let me see reason.”

“She’s good at that,” Michael nods. “I hope she gets through to the captain. He thinks the worst of himself, for what happened.”

Hugh winces. “Let hope.”

“Yes – let’s hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you know how hard pacing is?????? because i hate it. pacing is the worst.
> 
> or, i set myself a challenge and promised alethia i'd have a chapter up this week. here's to hoping the angst-train that the next chapter will be comes out quicker, ha.
> 
> tilly is one of my favourite characters on Discovery and i hope her exuberance was well translated.
> 
> also, FIC REC TIME! bc i realised that this chapter was very much inspired by 'The Ensign and Captain Dimples', by Selmak. they sort of built up to the whole 'make blahblahblah invalid' and obviously it is stuck in my brain because it's that brilliant, how it's gone about (though this fic doesn't focus on that, it will totally be chris/michael centric and not really political. just kind of angsty) and how they led up to it, especially. i mean, this whole fic was inspired by it. i might even tag it, i think... anyway
> 
> so to repeat: fic rec for Selmak's 'The Ensign and Captain Dimples', the inspiration for this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> [ come say hi on tumblr ](https://wearethewitches.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
